Lost and Found
by Mindy35
Summary: Ten/Donna. Post-"Journey's End". The Doctor hasn't quite given up on Donna Noble.


Title: Lost and Found

Author: Mindy

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me. No infringement intended.

Spoilers: major for "Journey's End".

Summary: Ten/Donna. Post-"Journey' End". The Doctor hasn't given up on Donna Noble.

A/N: I am new to this fandom. Be gentle.

-x-x-x-

_"Things is, I don't think she ever quite forgot. A great mind like that-- some of the details kept bleeding through.…"_

When his red sneakers hit the grey pavement of London it was as though his entire being exhaled for the first time in months. He hadn't trodden on solid land for over a month, hadn't spoken to a single soul in longer – human or otherwise. He'd been drifting in self-imposed loneliness, but his mind hadn't drifted far, if at all, from this city.

The solitude was beginning to wear on him. And the self-flagellation was sending him slightly bonkers -- that was her word. There was only one person in the universe who could snap him out of a temper like this. Unhappily, she was also the one person he was never supposed go near again.

Even as some part of him held out hope, he had vowed to himself that he would not set a foot inside the world of Donna Noble again. He'd tried to resign himself to the fact that he'd never hear her voice, never see her smile, never feel the comfort and warmth of her presence within his lifetime. Not a hair, not a finger, not a thought would he turn in her direction – not after what he'd put her through. And not when it could mean her life.

The Doctor couldn't see Donna ever again -- the woman he'd come to more than love.

Love was not difficult for the Doctor. He was a romantic at heart and always had been. It was a particular trait of his kind and a fundamental part of his personality. To fall in love was simple, to fall in love was easy. To stay, live, remain in love, no matter how strong the sentiment, no matter how long the life – that was still a mad mystery to him after aeons of experience.

But he didn't love Donna Noble. That is, he didn't only love her. Something more complex had grown in the short time they had shared a life together. Something very akin to need – which was as prone to make a man carry out strange and dangerous acts as love could be. Particularly if they were combined.

In the end, he really was the most selfish of beings. As he headed down the bustling city street, he wasn't so very surprised or appalled that he was currently breaking the promise he'd made to himself, her and her family. He was only surprised that he'd been incapable of staying away any longer.

After all, he had a different perspective on time than most and being isolated from loved ones was second nature to him by now. He didn't like it. But he endured it. It was a sad fact of his existence.

Donna Noble was different though. From the beginning and in everything since, she always had been. She was not a distant memory from a dead planet. She was not banished eternally to a parallel universe. And she had not left him of her own accord, in search of a better life. She had not left him at all or even wanted to. She had simply disappeared from his experience, just as he had from hers. Sudden and irrevocable.

There was something deeply unsatisfactory about it, a feeling of incompleteness that he could not manage to shake in all the time since they'd parted, not in all the months since she'd rescued entire worlds of reality and he'd instantly and resolutely forfeited hers. He'd never liked unfinished business. It kept him awake at night.

Still, there was nothing or no one stopping him from seeing Donna, except himself. She had no earthly idea who he was now or that once upon a time, they had been the best of friends. But she was right there on Earth, exactly where he'd found and left her, living the ordinary life of the ordinary woman she was anything but, with no one any the wiser to where she'd been and all she'd accomplished.

And somehow he'd convinced himself that there could be no harm in just seeing her face, as long he was careful, kept his distance. He didn't intend to talk to her or let her see him. He didn't wish to interfere with her course, or for her to recall anything she shouldn't. All he wanted was one visit, all he needed was one glimpse, for his own peace of mind.

He needed to know that something of the woman he'd come to know still remained. For while he'd never met a woman as indomitable as Donna, he'd also never met anyone as blind to their own quality or so apt to loose sight of their place in the world. A world which nobody knew they owed to her, and populated by souls who had yet to recognise the magnificence in her that he had noticed almost immediately.

He'd become accustomed to witnessing that sparkling brilliance on a daily basis. She'd touched him without ever meaning to, and saved him just when he needed saving. It was one of the larger regrets in his long, long life that she'd never truly known what she meant to him, how he valued her, and how beholden he was to her. Because if anyone needed to be told these things it was Donna Noble.

Not that he could tell her any of it now. That was a risk he couldn't take. She'd probably slap him silly anyhow. And one thing he'd learnt early in their relationship was that he didn't ever wish to be on the receiving end of another of Donna Noble's palms when she was enraged. The woman could wallop a man into the following week without a hint of remorse.

The Doctor smiled to himself as he paused for a moment, glancing up and down the busy street, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Whatever weird connection had brought he and Donna together more than once was apparently still active, because he had a persistent sixth sense on exactly where he would find her. He didn't question it – he just followed it.

He didn't actually have a plan beyond that but, for him, that was not at all unusual. He functioned best without a finite strategy. It kept things interesting and it was a formula that had been working for him for ages – literally. Things just tended to fall into his lap, solutions appeared, events flowed. Destiny wove around him freely and easily. He trusted the Universe to bring him whatever he wanted, when he wanted it, if not necessarily how.

As he stood, rocking on his heels and waxing profound, somebody behind him stormed out of a pair of double doors, eyes spitting daggers and flame-coloured hair flying. He only got a glimpse as she brushed past him then continued at a furious pace in the same direction he'd been headed.

And just like that, just like before -- just as he'd half-expected her to -- Donna found him.

The Doctor stared after her, mouth open and agog, eyes wide and unblinking. His feet sprang into action before he'd even given them permission to move. He sprinted down the street, dodging passers-by until his eyes caught sight of her again, standing on a street corner, huffing impatiently at her wristwatch and awaiting the green light. He sidled a little closer, hiding himself in the crowd and studying her from afar.

Donna's hair – her defining feature -- was a little shorter, pulled away from her face at each side. Her fringe fluttered slightly as she blew a breath out through pursed lips. The simple black suit she wore was the same she'd worn when they met the second time around. And her expression was one of carefully fashioned invulnerability, verging on insolence and aimed at the world in general. It made her look older than he remembered, older than when she smiled softly, or laughed openly.

He shifted a little closer, slipping between very portly men and too skinny women to position himself behind and to the right of his long-lost friend. He thought maybe he saw her neck stiffen and her head tilt. And perhaps she half-turned to meet his quiet gaze but then the traffic light bleeped and the crowd, including Donna, surged forward across the asphalt.

The mass converged with another, people criss-crossing paths and hurrying towards their separate destinations. She was within his sights one moment and the next, gone. Just gone – disappeared right in front of him. Again. He looked back and around, pupils darting, quick and desperate. He retraced his steps, peering inside buses and taxis, narrowing his gaze at every flash of red hair and blue eyes. But Donna was nowhere to be found.

The Doctor let out a breath, wandering randomly as he scratched his head. It was probably just as well, he thought, muttering to himself quietly. He knew it was a risk coming, a big chance to take simply for his own peace of mind. He'd wanted a glimpse and that's what he'd gotten. Of course he wanted more – he knew he would. But more was impossible -- unthinkable and dangerous.

He'd come to make sure she was okay and she'd looked…well, okay. Not great, not happy, not like _his_ Donna. But she was alive, living her life. And that had been the whole point. That Donna, that wild and rare force of nature, who swept into his life, forever altering it and him, lived on. That she continued her journey where she'd abandoned it. That was why he'd done what he did, despite her begging him not to. He'd already glimpsed her death on that faraway day and once was enough for him.

But him being there now endangered all that. Him treading the same street as Donna Noble, in the same city, on the very same earth, endangered her entire life. No matter how he missed her, he couldn't justify it. Things had turned out the way they had and there was no altering it. There was no going back to what they were, no starting over and no changing the past. There were no second chances or do-overs. Not this time. He of all people should know that.

Perhaps, he and Donna were always meant to be unfinished, their association open-ended and undone. Perhaps their destiny, however unsatisfactory it felt to him, had been fully consummated. Perhaps, he just had to let it go, let her go, as he had so many others.

Still, his eyes scanned the street one last time before he left, turning on his heel, swiftly, decisively. As he did, though, he collided abruptly with a woman carrying a large cup of coffee and hugging a book to her chest. Her forehead banged against his chest, the hot coffee splattered over the both of them and the book dropped to the ground with a thud.

"Oi!" she screeched: "Watch it!"

"Sorry, " he reacted immediately, brushing down his jacket: "That was my fault, sorry."

"'Course it was, you complete dunce," she spat, brushing herself down as well.

His head snapped up as his memory registered the familiar tone. The face of woman in front of him matched the voice. "Donna!" he exclaimed delightedly, without thinking twice: "Ha!"

"Wot?" she snapped, meeting his eyes fleetingly before looking down again at her ruined suit: "Who are you?"

He pointed at some foam still coating the lapel of her jacket: "Ah….you've got--"

"Oi!" she warned him: "Hands!"

"Sorry," he apologised, holding his hands up and away.

"How'd you know my name?" she demanded warily as she dabbed at herself with a napkin.

"It's written right there," he improvised, pointing again to her left breast pocket where she wore an id badge.

"Hands, I said!" she nearly hollered, batting at his errant fingers.

"Here, lemme get your--" The Doctor stooped to pick up the book she'd dropped but, seeing the cover illustration, he paused.

Donna sighed impatiently after a moment. "Can I have my book back please?" she huffed.

The Doctor looked up at her slowly, crouched at her feet, the paperback in his hands: "Fan of whodunits?"

"Only lately," Donna shrugged, peering at him with a creased brow.

"Agatha Christie," he murmured, rising to his feet and slowly turning the book over in his hands. The cover was uncannily similar to the edition he owned: "_Death in the Clouds…_One of my favourites."

Donna arched an eyebrow, her voice ripe with sarcasm: "You don't say?"

"Yep," he smiled, his eyes twinkling thoughtfully: "What a mind, eh?"

Donna narrowed her eyes at him then abruptly snatched the book back: "Look, skinny boy, I've got a boyfriend so you're wasting your time."

"I wasn't--!" he stuttered exasperatedly: "That's not what--!"

"Thanks for the hot shower," she snapped as she began to walk away: "and by the way, that was the worst pick-up line I've ever heard in my life!"

"Doubt it," he huffed under his breath, peering over his shoulder to watch her go.

He smiled to himself, not registering the crowd passing by him or the clamour of the street. He watched Donna's distinctive walk, saw her tuck the book with the giant wasp on the cover under her arm and throw her spilt coffee in a rubbish bin. But she'd barely walked a dozen steps before she turned back. The Doctor averted his eyes, feigning interest in anything other than the woman he'd travelled across worlds just to catch a glimpse of. He felt her approach, slowly this time, her face creased with searching.

"I know you," she said, after a moment, looking like she was trying to place him: "don't I?"

The Doctor gulped: "No. Do you?"

"You thought I'd forgotten?" she said, her voice taking on an entirely different tone to their earlier altercation.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, taking a step backwards: "I think you've got me confused--"

"No, I remember you. You were at my house that day. When the Earth flew through space-- apparently," she made a little face as though the whole idea was nonsense.

He dipped his head at her, murmuring lowly: "You remember it?"

Donna scoffed: "Everyone remembers that day. You were chatting with my Gramps. And my Mum."

"Right," he nodded, hesitantly: "yeah. We did meet, didn't we?"

"See," she grinned and tapped her temple with one finger: "never forget a face, me."

His mouth quirked up in one corner: "S'that right?"

"D'you know my gramps?" she asked, leaning forward slightly, her eyes suddenly warmer.

"Ah, we've got…" the Doctor shrugged: "a mutual acquaintance."

"Oh. I thought you might've met him at the newsstand," she offered.

"Yeah, that probably would've been a better answer," he admitted, then added with a bob of his head: "I did, in fact, meet him at the newsstand."

"That's my gramps for you," she shook her head, smiling softly: "He'll talk your ear off if you let him."

The Doctor stuck out his bottom lip, nodding: "Sounds familiar..."

"He was always meeting strange people and bringing 'em home for tea," she laughed.

He made a face: "Strange?"

Donna continued, oblivious: "Mum used to hate it, but he was instinctive about people, you know. Trusting, kind."

"Was?" he questioned gingerly.

"Oh, still is!" she amended: "Not selling newspapers any more. But still making friends, bringing 'em home for tea. And still gazing up at the stars. Every night, without fail."

"Right," he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets and nodding at the ground: "Yeah, nothing he loved more than that telescope of his. Well…" he paused, holding out a hand: "except his grandaughter, of course."

Donna gave him a small, tight smile: "Anyway, nice to see you again."

She offered her hand perfunctorily and the Doctor took it slowly. Just as she did the last time they shook hands on that terrible night he returned her to the life she dreaded, she held onto his hand a little too long. The gesture was probably unconscious on her part, but he didn't attempt to break the contact.

"Sorry," she muttered, scrunching her nose up: "about before. One of those days, you know?"

"No problem," he nodded, then glanced at her id badge deliberately: "You take care then, Donna Noble."

She blinked at him, half-turning to go: "John Smith, right?"

"Good memory," he smiled as her palm slipped out of his

She tossed her head at him: "See ya," and walked away. But when he called her name, she turned back.

He took a few steps forward til they were face to face once more: "Just out of curiosity….what is 'Lost and Found'?"

She looked at him, perplexed: "What?"

"New job, is it?" he asked, indicating the badge clipped onto her jacket. Under her name and photo was a logo reading: _'LOST & FOUND: We'll find you'_.

"Oh yeah, new job. Sounds silly…" she sighed and rolled her eyes: "but it's sort of like a…well, a detective agency. Tracking missing persons, that sort of thing."

"That doesn't sound silly," he shrugged: "What's your job there? Secretary?"

Her chin tipped up slightly: "No actually, I'm an information officer."

"So you… investigate things?" the Doctor bobbed his head and suppressed a wide smile: "I imagine you'd be rather good at that."

She gave him a lopsided smile: "Why d'you say that?"

"Just a hunch," he answered breezily: "Sounds pretty exciting."

"I had a lead this morning," she shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder: "But it just went cold. Freezing, in fact."

"We-ell," the Doctor couldn't help grinning, his feet beginning to rock happily again. "I'm sure you'll figure something out. A brilliant mind like yours."

"Oi, you," she warned, brandishing a finger at him: "I told you – boyfriend!"

"Oh well," he exhaled, looking at her from beneath his brows: "he better know what he's got."

"God, " she breathed, clearly amused: "you just don't give up do you?"

"Nope," he smirked: "Never."

"Right then, here you go!" she muttered, ducking her head and pulling a card out of her pocket. "My number, skinny boy. You're certainly persistent, I'll give you that."

"I really wasn't--" he insisted, taking the card anyway.

"That's just my number, though," she warned him, wide-eyed: "it's not a promise or a date or anything. 'Cause I'm seeing someone and its getting kind of serious. Maybe you can come to the wedding--" she shrieked spontaneously: "I'm sure Veena will need a-- "

"I don't do weddings," he interjected flatly: "Don't do blind dates either."

Donna shrugged: "Suit yourself then." She jumped as her phone buzzed and jingled in her pocket: "Oh, that's me, I'm late." Pulling it out, her expression changed as she read the incoming text and her voice grew more and more excited: "Oh….Oh….Oh!"

"What is it?"

"Oh, I am _very_ good!" she announced, holding the phone up triumphantly: "Got a new lead! Gotta run," she began to back away, still ranting: "Spend half my life on the run these days. See you at the church, skinny boy and oi!--" she called, stopping for a moment to run her eyes over him. "do yourself and favour and change that suit. Looks like you've been wearing it for a month!"

The Doctor looked down at his favourite brown suit, now anointed with hazelnut latte. He pouted, a retort forming on his lips, but when he looked up again, Donna had vanished. He scanned the city crowd, but not as desperately as before. The smile he'd not been aware he was wearing faded slowly and he looked down at the card in his hand.

Printed in solid black text was the name that had become so significant to him – proof of her continuing presence in the world she belonged to and was finally finding her way in. He wouldn't ever call the numbers listed beneath or attend her wedding, if indeed there was one.

He wasn't entirely sure whether the boyfriend she'd mentioned was mere fabrication to deflect his perceived advances but it hardly mattered. He knew he had no right to feel anything about Donna loving another man, marrying another man. And she should spend her life with someone, enrich the existence of someone, even if it wasn't him. Especially since it couldn't be him.

After all the tragedy and grief of their ending, he'd been wrong, and he was happy to admit it. The friend he'd known, loved, trusted and needed like no other hadn't died, and there was no reason to mourn for her. Her mind had stalled but it had lost none of its honesty or humour. Her spirit had been crushed more than once in the time they travelled together. He'd feared that the final, most devastating injury, inflicted by him, would render it eternally damaged. But the brilliance of Donna Noble's spirit was inextinguishable.

He was bittersweetly pleased to see that the life of Donna Noble was finally being fully lived, as it was always meant to be. And maybe not all of what they had shared was as lost as he'd believed. Maybe some details would continue to bleed through. Maybe something of him would live on in Donna, just as she lived on in him.

And until the day they might meet again as friends he would act as the guardian of their shared experience. He would hold it and treasure it and never let it die. So long as he lived and breathed, he would remember for both of them. He would live in hope, as he always did, loving her, even as she was utterly unaware of it.

Tucking her card into his breast pocket for safekeeping, the Doctor took a deep breath. Then, casting one last look in the direction that Donna Noble had disappeared, he turned and walked away.

_END._


End file.
